


On the Inside Looking Out

by ProtoChan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan Little Bang 2018, F/M, Forgiveness, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoChan/pseuds/ProtoChan
Summary: When Emma takes an interest in learning more about Killian's past, what starts out as an evening spent retelling stories of unity and friendship ends up revealing one of Killian's most romantic and courageous acts to be a bit more complicated than either of them previously thought. Killian then looks to reconcile after a mistake that got lost in the cracks between Wicked Witch and Ice Queen raids to his most loyal crewman, Smee. Both Killian and Emma reflect on the endeavor from before and after the fact, and discover along the way that Killian may have come just a little further along in his redemption than even Emma could've expected.





	On the Inside Looking Out

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: K: There’s nothing explicit here, so everyone can enjoy it!
> 
> Words: 12,460
> 
> A/N: Wow. It’s finally time to release this bad boy, isn’t it? 
> 
> I have so much to say about this piece. It was a fast labor, and definitely not free of complications, but a labor of love nonetheless. 
> 
> This piece was inspired by a question that I personally asked Chris Gauthier at last year’s Once Upon a Time Convention in Whippany, one that I’ve been wanting to ask for a long time now. "The last time Smee and Killian interacted in the present timeline, it was before Smee got his memory back and remembered that Killian sold the Jolly Roger and left his crew to go save Emma. What do you think that Smee and the rest of the crew think of their former captain now? Are they happy for his redemption or are they bitter at him for their abandonment?" 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who made this possible. First, the mods of The Captain Swan Little Bang. Thank you for putting together a really solid project and bringing all of these writers, betas, and artists together. Second, I would like to that @black-wolf066, who shot ideas back and forth with me and really helped this story come alive. 
> 
> Third, I want to thank my fantastic artist, @youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat. Our pairing, while not initial, ended up being as good as fate, for you made me simply stunning artwork. Just one look at her efforts is enough to captivate you and allow you fair readers to really grasp the mood and tone of On the Inside Looking Out, and I couldn’t be happier with what she came up with.
> 
> Finally, I want to thank my beta. Jordy, @the-girl-in-the-band-tee, our union as author and beta was nothing less than pure, unadulterated kismet. You not only worked tirelessly with me, even as I had to rework my entire story from the ground up, but you stole my heart and became one of my closest Once buddies too! To say I couldn’t have done this without you is the understatement of the millenium. You were this story’s first fan at a time where I wanted nothing more than for people to like my work. You’re so vehement in your support, and when I needed it most, you held me up like Mr. Incredible holds up a car, even as I had to rebuild this story from the ground up. I never had a beta before, and when I first got one, I didn’t know what to expect. But your enthusiasm and your spirit and your trust hit me like a rock to the face, and it led to a friendship so good, that we’re now planning to go to Once Con together! You’re truly the Killian to my Emma, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.

Emma Swan can be quite curious when she wants to, and few subjects pique her curiosity quite like Killian Jones. 

 

She’s asked him questions before - tons of them. Why does Captain Hook want to go to Storybrooke? Who’s Milah? Where’s Cora? 

 

You traded your ship for me?

 

That last one especially gets to her. Once she knows the answer to it, it screams at her like Grumpy announcing a curse everytime she sees her boyfriend, and that itself is almost too much for her to bear.

 

In fact, that very answer is the catalyst to a new endeavor of Emma’s: Learning all she can about her boyfriend.

 

Those questions and others, for all they’ve revealed about Killian, are all about the present - or at least the relative present - with sprinkles of tales of Liam and Milah here and there. 

 

Killian Jones is certainly an enigma in his present, but just as much so during his past - a past that encompasses around two hundred years.

 

Two hundred years.

 

She can hardly imagine looking back on her life at 35 years, and Killian has roughly six or seven times that with which he has to do that very task, most of it having been spent in Neverland.

 

What must those years have been like? Painful is the overall feeling, Emma gathers. It has been thoroughly conveyed by Killian over the course of their time together in so many different ways, from the almost foreign burts of caution he showed while in Neverland to the way he twitches his fingers when he suspects a trap nearby. Partner all of that with grieving over Milah and Liam, she’s willing to bet it adds up to a rough experience altogether.

 

But what else is there? Sure, it seems to just be terrible, but it doesn’t take a lot of time spent with Killian to find that hard to believe. Killian’s hardly morose. In fact, he’s downright, almost annoyingly, chipper sometimes. And if his trip to Neverland was only filled with bad moment layered upon bad moment, Emma doubts she’d see that flirty little smirk or those mischievous eyes that make her want to both kiss it right off his face or spar with them through her own features.

 

Talking to anyone about this other than Killian feels like a breach of privacy. She’s aware that most of the people who knew Killian back then could give her a wealth of information. Perhaps there’s a chance that Tink - Emma still shudders at the fact that she’s calling her by that name - could even provide her with some of his better hours across the decades they resided on the island. But it doesn’t seem right to do that, not without Killian by her side. And to do that, she’d need to talk with him first.

 

Now that begs the question: What avenue should she explore? Honestly, she doesn’t know where to begin. How can someone possibly find something good about Neverland? Emma looks back to her own experience. Her first thought, like she suspects Killian’s would be, is that there wasn’t anything redeemable about it. It was by no means a destination spot. Had Henry not been dragged there by Pan and his minions, Emma surely never would have set foot on that island. Not to mention, while their overall mission was a success, Pan’s curse and the forced separation afterwards caused the whole experience to end in tragedy. 

 

Emma starts to believe that that first thought was indeed the correct one: Nothing positive came of her journey to Neverland.

 

…Well, not nothing.

 

For one thing, it was there that Emma was confronted with the fact that she may have real feelings for Killian. 

 

She recalls that moment - the kiss that started it all.

 

That damn kiss.

 

And just like it had for Killian, it spoke of truths and fears she dared only give voice to when there weren’t a million and one other things to confront and triumph over.

 

Never has a realization been so absurdly irritating and incredibly pleasurable all at once.

 

Before she gets lost in that, Emma refocuses herself.

 

What else happened in Neverland that she could call in any way good?

 

Her conundrum is put to bed sooner than she expects. The mission there is what firmly set up the current team of defenders in this town. They - two iconic fairy tale heroes, an Evil Queen, Captain Hook, a Dark One, and a Savior - were a group so outlandish in design that Emma had no doubts the very fates or Gods - or whatever that run this and all other worlds - were left with their mouths wide open at the prospect of their formation. Part of it fell apart, of course. It seems that the call to heroism was too weak for Gold to pay any long-lasting mind to, especially when tempted with eternal freedom from the dagger’s control. But everyone else? Emma never expected that the Evil Queen would be her most effective magic teacher, nor that her father could work together with Captain Hook. But they did, and now ultimately do. At the end of the day, they’re quite the crew.

 

Crew.

 

Killian has a crew, or had, as Emma reminds herself of his sacrifice. Given the loneliness of Neverland and how much of a social butterfly KIllian turned out to be, who else could’ve provided Killian better company than his own group of scallywags - if she’s using that term right?

 

Now they’re people she’s heard nary a word about.

 

And she’d like to.

 

Suddenly, Emma knows exactly what she should be asking her boyfriend.

 

It’s been a solid week since Gold’s banishment, and Emma decides that it’s best to ask Killian about this now. After all, who knows when the next set of Ice Queens or Wicked Witches will infest the town again?

 

She waits until they have a date that allows them solace from the rest of the world. Presently, the spot that offers that the most is Killian’s room at Granny’s. Right now, they’re watching TV together - nothing either of them are all that interested in, but it’s good background noise and a reason to hold each other close after engrossing themselves in their separate research projects all day. When a commercial break starts, Emma turns to Killian, takes one deep breath, and finally speaks.

 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

 

“What was your crew like?”

 

For a moment, Killian’s not sure what he heard was right. It’s been a long day working with Belle to free the captured citizens of Storybrooke from the sorcerer’s hat, so the likelihood of one of his senses faltering is possible. However, years of dealing with all manner of illusions in Neverland has given him the wisdom to trust his ears when they truly hear something. And sure as the sky is blue, Emma Swan just asked him a question pertaining to his crew.

 

He’s sure Emma can see his eyes grow wide like the dinner plates in this realm.

 

And why wouldn’t they? The inquiry has come out of nowhere - the television show on the screen in front of them has no relation to anything nautical, and never before has Emma broached the subject of The Jolly Roger’s crew before. 

 

Killian hasn’t the slightest idea how to respond. 

 

All he can think to do is ask just how the question came to be in the first place.

 

“What births such curiosity, love?” 

 

Emma’s fingers run against his leathery lapel as she responds.

 

“You’ve told me so much about Liam and Milah and Neverland, but you’ve never told me about your crew, and you spent so many years with them,” she explains. “It’s like what you said that night when we watched Lily’s video together, I want to know more about your beginnings.” 

 

It doesn’t escape Killian that while close, those were not his exact words, and he’s confident that his beloved is quite aware of that fact. One of those altered is a four-letter word that broaches a topic that Killian’s not sure Emma is quite ready for just yet, so he doesn’t press that particular button.

 

Instead, he chooses to focus on the request his beloved has given him.

 

His crew.

 

She wants to know more about his crew.

 

Emma’s right: He had spent so long with them. However, as he sits beside her, his mind draws a blank at just what to say.

 

Where does he even begin to describe his crew?

 

How can one ever hope to break down more than a century’s worth of memories with nearly 20 crew members?

 

Well, Emma wishes for him to do so, and Killian will be damned if he can’t prepare a satisfying answer for her.

 

He glosses over their time together in his head, from Liam’s end to just after returning from Neverland.

 

The first thing that comes to mind is yelling - lots and lots of yelling - the good majority of which,  he remembers, came from him.

 

It’s only to be expected. After all, he was their captain. Commandeering the respect and attention of his crew is the first step to commandeering anything, whether it be loot or control of plundered ships and villages.

 

But even still, it was a lot of yelling, as he recalls, enough to leave him hoarse for hours, if not days after if louder and longer speeches were called for.

 

Just reliving more than a few instances is enough to bring the aggravation back.

 

As he remembers, his most common shouts were for his crew to wake up.

 

“Total slugabeds, the lot of them.” His words come out low and rough, a borderline grumble, and his eyes roll. Emma shoots him a look, a combination of exasperation and sarcasm in the curves of her face. “A life at sea requires that one rise with the sun,” he states, unflinchingly.

 

Emma responds with snickers, and it’s enough to make his smile return.

 

It’s not fair how she does that. 

 

Damn her father’s moniker for its inaccuracy - she’s the charming one!

 

“To be fair, I’ve seen what they had to work with,” she retorts. “I’d sleep in, too.”

 

“Lazy,” he answers before a single beat can pass.

 

“Only so much you can do aboard a boat. May as well spread out the time” She then shrugs, and the devilish look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know about whether or not another four-letter word was used intentionally.

 

“Ship, love,” he nags. He keeps his tone balanced between annoyed and daring for more.

 

He does love being riled up by her.

 

Emma smirks at him. “Go on.”

 

“Smelly,” he continues. His hook wipes the air around his nose as if he’s deflecting a terrible stench.

 

“Isn’t that just what you call your pirate-y musk?” The two of them exchange a quick laugh. “I’m serious, Killian,” she says when it’s over. “You were all together for, like, a millenium.”

 

“Not a millenium, love,” Killian interrupts. He, of course, knows that Emma’s simply making yet another one of her seemingly infinite jests about his age, but he can never quite resist playing his part in their little game and correcting her. Emma raises a brow.

 

And then she does something he doesn’t expect - something he hates himself for as he sees it happen. 

 

She frowns, looking frustrated - almost disenchanted - the whole while.

 

Killian grows concerned, and his jaw locks in sync with the frown he produces. He mentally goes over what he may have said wrong, but nothing stands out. He hasn’t been dishonest nor acted bothered, as he’s done what Emma asked with no problem.

 

So why is she so morose?

 

“What’s wrong?” By now, Emma’s long stopped caressing his jacket, and her hand now rests on his thigh.

 

“It’s just...that’s all you have to say?” Killian pays close attention to the way Emma looks at him. She seems to be on the border of disappointment, though not quite there yet. 

 

Just what has he done to cause her this level of sadness?

 

Killian’s so confused, and he’s willing to do just about anything to relieve Emma of it.

 

“Swan, what is it you’re looking for here?” 

 

“I don’t know,” she says, her voice low, as her shoulders give off a half shrug. It comes off as being said carelessly, but in a way which fills Killian into the fact that the opposite is most likely true. But she goes on before he can push for more information.

 

“Something good?” 

 

That is something Killian doesn’t expect to hear.

 

She wanted to hear something good this whole while? About his crew?

 

His underlying question persists: Why?

 

“You never talk about your crew, and when you do, it’s never good,” Emma elaborates. “Why?”

 

Killian finds himself fighting off the urge to snort. He’s as much a mystery to her right now as she is to him.

 

“That’s because they’re from a part of my life I wish now to forget,” he attempts to reason, answering as if it was obvious.

 

“You don’t have to,” Emma argues, her hand soothingly rubbing his arm.

 

How she can tell him that so easily, he’ll never know.

 

“From my understanding, heroes distance themselves from the darkness, and what those men help represent is a very dark past of mine. And if your words are to be believed, I’m a hero - aren’t I?”

 

“You are,” Emma says. “But these guys - your crew - they traveled and worked with you for so long. And just because you’re no longer dark doesn’t mean you have to ignore that part of who you were. They were with you during Neverland and when Milah…” She stops. Killian knows she meant nothing by bringing her up, but the mere mention of her name hurts regardless, and both of them acknowledge that. “Anyway, I find it hard to believe that the most you took away from all that time was their laziness and the way they smelled. So come on, what were they really like?”

 

He gets it now, what Emma’s been aiming to do this evening. She’s looking for softness in the dark underbelly of the life he lived before she convinced him that it could very well be extended to include bouts of heroism as well.

 

If he’s learned anything from her since then, it’s that if she has an inkling that something’s possible, then it probably is.

 

He grins. She’s so hopeful now, and all he desires is to show her that that hope is not for naught.

 

If it’s a kinder story she wants, then it’s a kinder story she’ll get.

 

“I’ve taught you too well how to best walls, haven’t I?” 

 

Instead of a response, Emma pushes herself up off the couch and kisses him; the kiss screams of a yearning for truth - for a story.

 

Killian nods understandingly as she lowers herself back down.

 

They’re both outwardly smiling now, and Killian, now endowed with the full comprehension of what Emma wants, performs the suggested exercise once more

 

The results are much more positively-focused this time, and as such, they yield more positive results. 

 

It’s amazing how easy it all gets once he approaches things from a gentler angle.

 

His memory pulls him to when his crew first truly became his: Liam’s death. 

 

Recalling how not one man chose to step away in the wake of his brother’s passing and his announced intentions to take revenge on the king, one overarching word comes to mind.

 

“Loyal,” he says. “They’re as loyal as a crew comes. I’ve no idea where I’d be if not for them.” 

 

Emma smiles.

 

“What kind of journeys did you go on?”

 

“All sorts,” Killian boasts. He puffs his chest out. Emma’s right - there is something to be enjoyed about reliving some of the better moments of his past. “And I’ve an elephant’s memory, so I can tell you about any of them.”

 

Emma rolls her eyes. She does it differently now than when they first met. Back then, they were full of contempt and a desire for him to shut up. Now, it feels goofy and a touch possessive, as if only he could give her cause for such a gesture. And that’s exactly how he wants it.

 

“Alright,” she says, playing along. “What happened during your first mission with your crew.”

 

Now that’s one hell of a story. It certainly does more to portray his crew in a good light, compared to him at least. But he’s not without his moments in it, so it’s as good of a story as any to tell her.

 

He’d just have to diminish just how bad those moments were.

 

“Excellent choice, love. Well, when I was first made captain, our sights were set on destroying all that brought power to the king that ended my brother’s life. It didn’t take us long after returning from Neverland to find another one of his ships.”

 

“So, what was it? A straightforward pillaging?”

 

“It was my hope that it wouldn’t be,” Killian confesses. “I had hoped I could perhaps enlighten the men of their crew in much of the way I had enlightened my own. The captain agreed to meet with me in his quarters, so I left the Jolly to go talk to him. Suspecting foul play, my men begged me to take one or two of them aboard, but I found it non-conducive to peaceful negotiations, so I declined their requests. I went down there and met with the captain. He and I sat down, and I pleaded my case.”

 

“I’m guessing he wasn’t so responsive.” It comes out as a statement, and not the question it was originally supposed to be.

 

“Worse,” Killian refutes. “My crew’s suspicions were indeed correct. He never had any intention of hearing me out. He planned an ambush. Three of his men hid in the room, all burlier than I.”

 

“And here I thought the great Captain Jones was unstoppable,” Emma mocks. A broad smirk appears on her face. Killian decides to give his beloved a piece of her own medicine and roll his eyes at her for a change. “So there is a point where that ego of yours gives out!”

 

In all fairness to Emma, she’s got him there. On his own, he could’ve taken on one, perhaps even two of those men. But three, as well as a captain? He wouldn’t have stood a chance!

 

“How’d you escape?” Emma goes on to ask.

 

“Thankfully,” Killian says, continuing on his story, “my men, most of whom were older than me when I took command, knew better than to trust my naivete. They boarded after I went below deck with the captain. Shortly after my fight below deck started, my crewmates saw to it that it ended swiftly. I learned two important lessons that day. The first is to always keep your wits about you. Even when your guard is lowered, some precautions are worth taking.” Emma nods. Killian, no stranger to stories about her past by now, gets why she would.

 

“And the second?”

 

Killian softens. “My crew truly had my best interests at heart, and any captain fortunate enough to get one half as up to snuff as mine would do well to listen to them.” 

 

“What happened after?”

 

“After that, it did become quite the pillage. We knocked most of the captain’s men out and made off with most of their supplies. His grin grows wider. “You should’ve seen the fish Louis picked out from their net! They were the size of my arm!”

 

Killian peeks his tongue out of his mouth, just enough to lick the opening between his lips. He recalls the smuggled dinner from that night being quite delicious. No matter what food this world has to offer, nothing will even beat the simple delight of a freshly roasted cod.

 

“Wait, who’s Louis?”

 

“He was my first mate,” Killian answers as if it was obvious.

 

Emma doesn’t seem to believe that to be so.

 

“Wait, Louis was your first mate? I thought that was Smee.”

 

Killian blinks. He seems to have lost himself in his memory, and consequently, forgotten both what Emma knows as well as what she doesn’t.

 

“Sorry, love. I realize I never spoke of him. Louis was my first mate until his death.” Killian feels his mood shift as he speaks of his deceased crew mate. “He passed in Neverland,” he mutters. “The man was as tough as nails and could pick up a boulder like it was a pebble, but one arrow from a rouge Lost Boy was all it took.”

 

Emma rubs the space between his shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t tell her that he still mourns Louis from time to time. Every so often, when taking a gulp from his flask, he’ll declare it to be in Louis’ name, even if such a declaration is made only to himself. It’s not his goal to fuel her sorrows tonight. She’s had more than her fair share of them. No, tonight is about giving her a truth that she desires.

 

So he chooses to continue on with his story.

 

“Afterwards, Smee graduated to that rank.” Emma absentmindedly nods, as she often does when the distance between two points is closed.

 

“I’ve seen him a couple of times, like when we went to the past. Quirky little guy, isn’t he?”

 

That would be putting it mildly. Of all the stories Killian has about his crew, nearly all of them involve Smee somehow.

 

“Indeed so,” he confirms, chuckling.

 

“In our version of the whole Peter Pan story, he’s kind of a goofball.” 

 

Apparently, every so often, the Land Without Magic can stand to get a piece of Enchanted Forest history right. 

 

And here Killian thought that was impossible, especially if what Emma and Henry say about his own appearance is to be believed.

 

“That remains true to a great deal in our world, too. Funny story - for a while, actually, he was a rat. At one point, he put the corner of some red wrapper on his head so I wouldn’t squish him.”

 

Emma’s eyes grow with recognition. “Oh yeah, I think I saw him.” Her brows then furrow, but not from confusion, as Killian discovers seconds later. “Actually, I think I saved him from Pongo.”

 

“Always the hero,” Killian teases.

 

“Maybe just a bit,” Emma fires right back. “So Smee and Hook were close in our version. How about in yours? Were you two friends?”

 

Killian hesitates. It’s a difficult question. Surely, a hero would say “yes” without the slightest pause. But if he’s being honest with himself, that’s not really how it was. Killian, throughout his time as captain, made his role and the expectations of such a title clear. That wasn’t to say there weren’t times where formalities were dropped, but first and foremost, Killian made himself a man to be feared, even amongst those in his crew older than him.

 

However, things were different with Smee.

 

“Smee began as my cabin boy, and our relations were off to a rocky start already due to his dealings with The Crocodile. Even as he rose through the ranks, there was always that distance between us.”

 

At the same time, Killian reminds himself, Smee was the only one to ever challenge him. 

 

He was also the only one who Killian truly let in. 

 

“But there’s more to it,” Emma guesses. 

 

“Aye. It was early in our trip to Neverland, possibly even the first or second year,” Killian says, holding up the appropriate amount of fingers as he counts. “There were nights early in my servitude to Pan where I doubted my resolve. I was enslaved to a demon, and I was ultimately working to take down the most dangerous magical creature known to man. Most days, I could handle that, but there were times when I succumbed to my vices and instead drowned my sorrows.” Emma takes his hand. Killian finds himself impressed. For all his former talk of her being an open book, she seems to have no trouble reading him these days.

 

She needs to stop knowing him so well, but at the same time, he looks forward to the future, and how much better she can know him with time.

 

“One night,” he carries forward, “I drank alone in my quarters until I was on the brink of sickness. Smee came in. I honestly don’t remember what exactly he did, but he was saying something about vomiting and choking. I woke the next morning in my bed. Whatever illness I incurred then, as well as its accompanying smell, was but a ghost. I was still hungover, and on my nightstand were two things: a glass of water and a simple note. ‘You’ll defeat him, Captain. If anyone can do it, it’s you.’ From then on, he graduated to a regular member of me crew. And when Louis died, I passed the role onto Smee.” Emma is smiling at him, and while not teary, there’s something in her eyes that reminds Killian of that time they were watching  _ Titanic _ with her parents and she started crying towards the end. “Are you getting sentimental on me, Swan?”

 

She shrugs. “I’m just glad to hear that you had someone like that. I’m never going to know everything that happened in Neverland, but learning what I can...it’s just nice.”

 

Killian understands that sentiment. By the Gods, he does. There are times where he’s still floored by the memory of Emma willingly showing him her childhood mementos. It was a relief to know that there were things, or people - in the case of Lily - who, if only for a moment, made her bleak childhood a bit less so.

 

He smiles to himself. Emma’s inquiry has led to a complete flooding of his mind with memories of better times on The Jolly Roger with his crew. There’s so much more to tell Emma - things Killian wants to tell her. He thinks backs to hunting and fishing trips in Neverland and successful run-ins with Lost Boys that would leave he and his crew boarding their ship with arms full of candy and fruit.

 

It’s just when Killian’s about to thank Emma for bringing all these memories back that Emma adds one small sentence to the conversation.

 

“It’s a shame you don’t talk to him or any of your crew anymore.”

 

Suddenly, it’s like he’s snapped out of a trance, confused and feeling all too much like a deer in the headlights.

 

He can only manage to utter one thing.

 

“What?”

 

“Well, am I wrong?” Emma retorts. “Because it doesn’t sound like you have. Smee’s hardly ever come up before now, and you’re usually here, at the loft, or with Belle in the library, so I’m pretty sure you don’t hang out. I can’t say I know where Smee goes, but he doesn't seem like the reading type, especially after what I heard what happened to Belle when the curse first broke. And I think that applies to all of your other crew members, too.”

 

Killian’s jaw is locked half-open as his mind hangs onto her words.

 

That’s simply not true. He’s seen him!

 

He was by the harbor - 

 

No, Killian reminds himself. That was before the second curse came to an end.

 

He tries to think of another occasion where Smee or any of his other crewmates were in his company. Nothing comes up. The realization that they haven’t connected finally dawns upon him.

 

Killian attempts to speak, but he finds himself bereft of words.

 

Why had that happened? 

 

The reason for that is clear. 

 

Emma happened. 

 

Neverland happened. 

 

Zelena and a bloody time portal happened. 

 

And then not one, but two Snow Queens happened.

 

All the same, it astounds him. Beforehand, he couldn’t get away from his crew for the life of him. Not that he would have. Not that he likes that that’s the case now. How did it get that way?

 

He blinks, recognizing the fact that he hasn’t talked in a long while. Emma is looking at him. Her green eyes sparkle, half concerned and half as if he’s suddenly sprouted another head.

 

“You’re right, love. It’s been so long since I’ve seen head or toe of my crew. It makes sense though, with so much going on.”

 

What else can he say? Things simply got busy - for him, at least.

 

“And they haven’t reached out to you either?”

 

Killian’s about to say “no.” The word is all but upon his breath. 

 

But he stops. 

 

Now that Emma mentions it, Killian’s left wondering why no one, especially Smee, has made the effort to talk to him. It used to be that he couldn’t keep his first mate away even if he tried. Killian’s been busy, of course, but that’s not to say that there haven’t been quiet moments within the time. If Smee wanted to, there were no shortage of occasions where he could’ve come by for a chat.

 

“No,” his voice finally releases, if only to fill the space again.

 

“When was the last time you did?”

 

He thinks back to the last time he spoke to a crew member. 

 

It was with Smee.

 

Of course it was with Smee.

 

“It was right before the first curse broke,” he replied.

 

T’was a dangerous endeavor Killian recruited his old first mate for. In a fit of foolishness brought on by both Zelena’s curse on his lips and accompanying threats as well Killian’s own paranoia, he charged Smee with sailing Henry to New York so that he and Emma would both be safe. The last thing he remembers is Smee running off with Henry in tow, but a loose rope put an end to that plan. 

 

What happened to Smee afterwards, Killian, to this day, doesn’t know. That’s not to say that he thinks Smee is gone. None of the boats in the harbor have gone missing, and most people in Storybrooke would prefer not to go outside the town’s boundaries, lest they be separated from their friends and family in town with no way to come back.

 

All the same, it was the last time Killian saw anyone from his pirate-y days.

 

Killian relays the memory to Emma. He notices that she bites her cheek at the mention of the lie  he gave her back then. But it doesn’t last, and for that, he is relieved.

 

When the recollection is over, they both stew on it. 

 

“I think I know what happened,” Emma utters after a moment or two. She looks none too pleased with her conclusion.

 

What could the reason possibly be?

 

“Remember how you told me before Zelena’s curse, you took the Jolly Roger and outran it?” she inquires.

 

Killian smiles. How could he forget?

 

One look at Emma’s frown, however, has his grin recede.

 

“Well, you also told me that you left your crew while you were doing it. Something tells me they might be pissed about that, especially since you left without telling anyone what was going on.”

 

It’s at that point where everything hits Killian like a ton of bricks. 

 

That’s why his crew hasn’t approached him since the second curse passed.

 

They resented him. 

 

Killian was their captain, and he pulled a single-handed mutiny - in more than one sense - against his own loyal crew.

 

He remembers the night he left them. He and his men were at a harbor-adjacent tavern after a lengthy sail when Killian received his bird-delivered call to arms. The rest of his crew was asleep, and the decision was fast made. Within the hour, The Jolly Roger set sail again for the final time under his command.

 

To be honest, the thought of what he was doing had crossed his mind when he first deserted them. All along the shelves and cabins were possessions that were not his, but theirs. But Killian brushed it off as a problem to dwell on at a later date. Emma was the greater priority at the moment. 

 

Now, unfortunately, for as right as he still believes he was about his chosen course of action, that later date had not only arrived, but was further in the past than he ever imagined it would be when he got to it.

 

All that was left in its wake was resentment - resentment that needed to be dealt with.

 

If it weren’t for Emma’s body sandwiching his arm between her and the couch, he’d be reaching for his flask.

 

Emma seems to know that he’s put two and two together by this point. She makes him aware of that by rubbing his arm again.

 

“I don’t regret what I did,” Killian states, his words explicit in their firmness. “I’d have sold my ship for you a hundred times over and over again if it meant getting back to you.”

 

“I know,” Emma says patiently. 

 

Her words are comforting, as always, but implications behind what he’s done begin to truly sink in. 

 

What must it have been like to wake up one morning and find the place you called home to be gone without a trace, as well as the captain who was at its helm? 

 

Killain’s gutted men with his hook for lesser sins.

 

He didn’t pretend that little of the crew’s money wasn’t on board when he sailed off, out of the curse’s grasp. Granted, the curse only had a week to go before being cast at that point, so it wouldn’t have gone that far, but that was still a week where their futures seemed to be uncertain, and his crew didn’t even know that there would be a return trip to Storybrooke. Even then, there were still possessions of theirs which may have sported a chance of making the journey there, had The Jolly Roger fallen under its power.

 

But all of that had been forgone, and his men’s spoils were now certainly hoarded by Blackbeard somewhere they’d never hope to even reach, much less reclaim.

 

Guilt, just as it had mere weeks ago, begins to anchor Killian’s heart low in his chest.

 

“I really screwed up, didn’t I?” Killian asks. It’s meant to be rhetorical, but Emma responds in the only way he expects her to.

 

“Nothing you can’t change.”

 

She’s supportive. She’s always supportive. It’s enough to soften the burden his sins plague upon him.

 

“You think so?” 

 

“You’ve done it before.”

 

Killian concedes to her point. What else can he do?

 

The way Emma says says these words with such confidence serves as reminder that he has indeed accomplished much before, and a spark of desire from within himself makes Killian think for the slightest moment that, yes, maybe - just maybe - reconciliation is not beyond him.

 

Summoning however much courage he can muster, Killian gives Emma a determined smile.

 

“Then it looks like I need to make a plan.”

 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

 

“That bad?” 

 

Emma says this just after Killian swings the door to his room open with all the ferocity of a lion’s roar. It interrupts  _ Die Hard _ and ruins the cinematic experience Emma was going for when she first turned the lights off. She sees Killian’s silhouette freeze in place; he’s illuminated through the now opened door that separates his room from the rest of Granny’s. If not for her boyfriend’s clear distress, she’d laugh that she’s able to spook him. He recovers almost instantly and flicks the light switch.

 

“You’re still here?” Killian asks. There’s a good-natured surprise in his voice which serves as a balance to the otherwise tense nature of his entrance, though its presence as a mask is still evident.

 

“That a problem?” Emma shoots back, muting the television with the remote in her hand. Even as she asks, she knows it’s not. It’s a habit of hers - one they’ve grown accustomed to since they’ve started dating. Sometimes, she’d just bunker down in his room when the loft was too much to deal with for whatever reason, or if he was going out on an errand or researching with Belle and she just wanted a few more minutes of peace and quiet for herself, tucked away somewhere few visited.  

 

When Killian had told her that he found where Smee regularly spent his evenings and how he intended to finally talk with him, Emma had insisted that he go as soon as possible, while his nerves still allowed for such a discussion and there were no monsters or evil sorceresses at large. He was leaving just in the midst of a rather thrilling episode of  _ NCIS _ , and Killian, before she could even ask, invited her to finish it off without missing a second of the action. 

 

Sometimes, Emma swears that he knows her too well.

 

“Quite the opposite, love. Everything okay back home?” 

 

Well, he’s not infallible, but close.

 

Killian himself is actually the reason for her extended stay tonight. Emma had a feeling things between he and Smee weren’t going to be perfect by the end of the night, and she wanted to make sure that Killian had somewhere better to turn than a flask for relief when it was over. 

 

“Yeah, but stop changing the subject. What happened?” 

 

From just a few feet away, Killian lets off a deep sigh, and his hand covers his face. He steps into the room fully and lowers his hand to close the door. This time, thankfully, it’s in a way that doesn’t make the coffee table in front of Emma rattle.

 

“It wasn’t pretty,” he answers. 

 

Emma gives Killian a pointed stare. He’s being vague. It’s always a pain when he does that because she then has to pry the truth from him like a slipper out of a dog’s mouth. Sure, such vagueness can lead to nice, romantic moments, the most notable of which is the revelation of the very incident that got Killian into his current situation. However, times like that can still be annoying at the start, despite how perfect the payoff ends up being. Often times though, it can be as trying as pulling teeth, and Emma has a feeling that this is one of the latter instances.

 

Frankly, Emma’s not up for it - not tonight and not ever again if she can help it. She’s happy to be supportive, but she needs to know what it is that she’s supporting before she can help him recover.

 

“What does that mean?” she challenges, her words as pointed as her stare.

 

“It means that he hates me.”

 

Nope. Emma decides mid-eye roll that she’s not letting this drag on tonight. 

 

“Tell me what happened,” she demands. “Everything. Now.” Her resolve grows steely so that the message she wants him to receive is as loud and clear as a cannonball fired across a cloudless horizon.

 

Killian releases a sigh, and Emma can tell its a resigned one. “Mr. Smee had many a grievance to air, and that’s exactly what he did.” Emma hears Killian’s tone get more venomous, but to her satisfaction, he keeps going. The rubber bottoms of shoes softly thump against the wooden floor as he starts to pace. “Everything he said, it’s all true. I did leave him and the rest of the crew when I got that note without either a farewell or a letter.” The speed of his words begins to pick up gradually, and with the same velocity, their pained tone increases too. “I did leave them without the chance to reclaim their most cherished treasures, and I did hide all that from them when I returned to Storybrooke, though I had no good reason to. And even then, after everything was said and done and the truth was revealed, I did shy from them all until weeks after!” By now, he’s speaking so fast, that Emma just barely has the chance to take his words in. 

 

“Slow down,” Emma says. Wordlessly, she invites Killian to sit beside her. He nods and accepts the invitation. “Start from the beginning.” Killian takes a deep breath before doing exactly that.

 

“I went into The Rabbit Hole and joined Smee up front at the bar. He said nothing until I revealed to him what brought me there. And I did. He told me how I’d wronged everyone - how I’d abandoned my lifelong crew without a second thought.” Emma’s chilled to the bone hearing Killian use the word ‘abandonment.’ Throughout this whole experience thus far, Killian’s been using ‘left.’ ‘Left’ is more casual. ‘Abandonment’ isn’t. To the two of them, it’s almost a sacred word, too personal to use in most situations. 

 

Smee probably did a real number on Killian with that word alone.

 

While she’s never exchanged two words with Smee, Emma knows better than to think he’s naive to what that word represents. He knew what he was doing by saying that.

 

No wonder Killian seemed so reluctant to say anything earlier.

 

Still, as bad as the word is, she can’t fault it for accuracy. As complicated as the situation was, and for as well as Killian’s decision worked out in the bigger picture, what happened ultimately left the crew without a home, without their possessions, and without a captain.

 

Emma’s promised herself and, after the whole situation with his heart, Killian, that she wouldn’t coddle him when something was his fault. Unfortunately, for as much as she can sympathize, this time it is. Because of that, she holds her tongue, even as it longs to coo her boyfriend back to a more relaxed state.

 

“It was nothing I didn’t expect,” Killian goes on to say. “He then started asking me questions - why I left without telling anyone or bringing them along. I explained myself.”

 

“But he wasn’t receptive?” Emma supplies.

 

A grunt escapes Killian. “No.”

 

Despite predicting exactly what Killian would say, the response still saddens Emma.

 

“Did you apologize?”

 

“Aye,” is his response - curt, but not said cruelly. “He wasn’t in much of a forgiving mood, and his rage led only to more of my own.”

 

Emma’s not worried for a second that Killian brought harm upon his former friend. Killian’s learned from his misadventures of the unsung price of letting his fist do the talking, especially after his scuffle with Will Scarlet. However, Killian’s deadliest weapon is not the knuckles on his hand nor the hook at his left side, but instead, his tongue’s impulsiveness, and more importantly, what that impulsiveness can become if not reigned in by its master.

 

“You got a little defensive,” she guesses. 

 

“I told you it wasn’t pretty.” Killian massages his now closed eyes with his hand. He then sighs. Emma imagines he’s more aware of himself in this particular moment. “Neither of us laid a hand on the other, but some rather harsh words were exchanged, and we hardly ended the evening on good terms.” His shame radiates off him in the same way heat waves radiate off the streets on a hot day.  “I’m sorry. It’s in the nature of heroes to forgive or, when they’re wrong, earn forgiveness. It seems I’m no hero.”

 

“Killian, I’m not mad at you, and that’s not what being a hero is about.”

 

Emma loops her arm around Killian’s body and rubs his bicep. Emma still stands by what she agreed to earlier. She’s not coddling Killian. She’s not saying what happened wasn’t Killian’s fault or that he said and did all the right things given the circumstances. However, what happened couldn’t have been easy for Killian. Killian hadn’t needed to do what he did tonight, especially with an idea of the reception he was likely to get considering his actions beforehand. Emma, to be perfectly honest, is still surprised that he did it in the first place. It’s not like he had any guarantee that he would be forgiven, and as expected, he wasn’t.

 

But he did it anyway, and comfort she gives him now is more than deserved here.

 

“You’re upset. You’re allowed to be.” Killian gives her a snort. It’s halfway amused and halfway bitter.

 

“At least I didn’t lock him up in an old cell and call him useless. I never apologized for that, did I?” He sighs again. “I’m just on a roll today, aren’t I?”

 

“Killian, it’s okay.” Emma pulls him closer. 

 

“I think the worst part was that, at first, he wasn’t mad, per se - just disappointed. I could tell with every look he gave me that I failed him. And if I failed him, then I failed the rest of the crew, too.”

 

Emma hates seeing him like this. A brooding pirate is normally a sexy image, but reality poisons that fantasy.

 

She then get a thought. 

 

Perhaps there’s something she can do to salvage things?

 

“Want me to talk to him?” she splurts out, and while it’s at first unplanned, the second or two that follows give way to possibilities. 

 

Of course. How did she not think of it earlier?

 

Moments like these are where Emma feels some level of power because of the title she’s been given.

 

Savior.

 

What does a Savior do but bring people together? That’s basically been her job since arriving here, so why not do so now?

 

Killian seems to disagree.

 

When those brief seconds pass, he shakes his head. “No.”

 

Emma frowns, and she feels her brows furrow beneath the crown of her head.

 

“Why not?” she asks “I’m the Savior. I have a bit of a knack for bringing back happy endings. Maybe I can do it for you two.”

 

“Smee’s my demon to deal with,” Killian states, an air of finality in his voice. “Besides, if he truly feels how he came across back in that bar, then I’m not part of his happy ending anymore, if I ever was at all.”

 

“Stubborn,” Emma snips.

 

“Possibly so, but I mean it.” 

 

Emma feels a shift of weight. Killian, intentionally or not, is pulling away from her, and is sinking further into his side of the couch. He looks as depressed as all hell. In an attempt to give more of the comfort she stayed here to provide, Emma loosely takes hold of his arm and pulls at his jacket until he leans on her. Thankfully, it takes.

 

“It might be best to just end this pursuit here,” Killian continues. “If he were a danger to anyone, things would be different. But as it stands, he’s not, and I’m starting to think it wise to leave well enough alone.” 

 

She doesn’t want to agree. Killian cares for Smee, and Smee’s pain at Killian’s desertion only proves to her that he at one point felt the same. They should be fighting for each other.

 

However, Emma remembers that she too played a part in ending a older friendship of her own - one she wouldn’t accept back so quickly either. Granted, she was more in Smee’s position when it came to Lily. Emma understands that she wouldn’t have reacted well if Lily continued to pester her after their last fight. Sure, being a teenager when it all occurred had its own role to play in that, but Lily was hardly anyone Emma could ever count on to fix a flub up, and she gets the feeling that that attitude persevered into adulthood.

 

As loathe as she is to admit it, Emma gets it. Whatever the hell happened during this encounter, it seems like it was just too much for either Killian or Smee to recover from. That might change in the future, but for now at least, it appears to be the end.

 

Emma shrugs cheerlessly. “You’re right. Not every bridge can be unburned.”

 

“Nothing left to do but move on.”

 

He says that last bit with such resignation that Emma ends up feeling the pain as well. She knows Killian’s doubts about himself have been a harsh blow over the past few weeks given his,  admittedly, not completely poorly placed guilt over imprisoning both the fairies and the old man currently in the hat and assaulting Will Scarlet. Despite Emma’s attempts to help him feel better about everything - mostly by pointing out the initiation he took in trying to right his wrongs - tonight, no doubt, made everything worse.

 

That said, Emma’s fully aware it’s futile to fight him about it. Whatever he decides to do or think, he’ll reach the conclusion on his own. What she can do is be here for him, and that she has no problem doing.

 

_ Die Hard _ becomes the focal point of their evening, followed by  _ Forrest Gump _ . Killian’s notably quiet, though she can tell he’s doing what he can to disguise it as to not upset her, mostly by asking about random pieces of technology or the definition of the odd word or two. She’s not fooled in the slightest, and he seems to grow sentient to that at some point. Around the one-third mark in the second film, he gets quiet and stays much the same way for the rest of the film’s runtime. When Emma peeks at him, she sees that he’s deep in thought. His eyes may be on the screen, but his mind is anywhere else.

 

When the movie ends, Emma turns off the TV and leans back deeply into the couch as she ponders her next move. She’s unsure if she should go home yet. Killian’s mood is now odd - not quite depressive, but not definitively healthy either. He’s also been quiet, which is never good, and his eyes has been staring dead ahead at the now depowered television.

 

She’s about to ask if she can stay over when suddenly, Killian speaks.

 

“I’m going to keep trying.”

 

Emma doesn’t expect him to say that of all things. She’s confused by the sudden change. It’s not like she disagreed with him all that much towards the end, and the movies they watched weren’t anything that would push him one way or the other - not that she can see anyway. But he said it all the same, and that level of resistance of his own thought process, and better yet, the fact that Killian found that answer in himself, impresses Emma like nothing else.

 

She smirks.

 

“I thought you said you were done trying to win back Smee.”

 

“And I meant that,” Killian refutes. “But I’ve an entire rest of a crew to whom I might still be able to redeem myself, and I refuse to rest until such avenues have been explored.” 

 

Her smirk softens to a flat out smile. The road ahead, if tonight is any indication, promises to be treacherous if he keeps going down it, but it means the world to Emma that he’s committed to giving it his all.

 

“And you say you’re not a hero.”

 

Finally, he turns to her. As Emma greets his sky blue eyes again, she also greets something that wasn’t there the last time she got a glimpse of them - determination. It’s equal parts endlessly endearing, devilishly attractive, and impossibly uplifting. “If I keep on listening to you, I just might become one.” It’s now Killian’s turn to smirk at her, apparently. 

 

Little does he know what’s as plain to Emma as the nose on her face.

 

He already is one.

 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

 

In one brief instant, an otherwise uneventful and relatively quiet evening spent resting in bed overlooking bills and other documents is interrupted, and by the most innocent of sounds, no less.

 

Killian hums. It’s not in the way that one hums a tune, but rather a curious hum - a questioning hum.

 

Immediately, it’s met with a response.

 

“Hmm?” Emma echoes back to him. 

 

He wasn’t necessarily aiming for Emma’s attention regarding the matter, but Killian supposes now that he has it, why not share with her his most recent finding?

 

“Take a look at this receipt I got earlier today.”

 

Killian’s holding a custom-made bout of paperwork for his grave. Or rather, former grave. He hadn’t exactly needed it for very long. The stonemaker, when Killian had appeared back to life, had little clue exactly what to do given the circumstances, but still scrambled some paperwork together in order to accomplish something. While it wasn’t the first time the dead had come back to life, it had been the first time that their presence had been lost long enough that a grave could be created. Killian had picked up the paperwork today, and had only gotten around to perusing it this evening.

 

However, none of that had warranted Killian’s inquisition. 

 

What had was the man who turned out to have fronted the bill.

 

William Smee.

 

Smee had, according to the slip, not only purchased the grave, but placed the order for it in the first place.

 

Emma - the bright woman that she is - notices it immediately.

 

“Looks like that bridge wasn’t as burned as you thought it was.” There’s an inkling of a boast in her voice, and it makes Killian want to roll his eyes like a stone down a hill. Still, he knows the smile she’s fronting speaks more to how happy she is for him than any need to gloat.

 

“Right you are, love,” Killian says. “I wonder what’s changed.” Emma gives him one of those matter-of-fact looks that breeds intrigue like a chicken coop breeds eggs.

 

“I think it’s you.”

 

Her response is simple, yet it leaves Killian simply befuddled.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, a few things,” Emma explains. “Though they’re all about you.” 

 

Killian feels a positively wicked smirk unfold across his face.

 

“Just the way I like it,” he teases, earning a playful slap from Emma for his trouble. He’s well aware his ego can at times get bigger than the town they live in, but he’s just as savvy to the fact that Emma gets a kick out of it. “So, in what ways did I change his opinion of me?”

 

“Well, for one thing, you didn’t just give up after things didn’t work out with the two of you,” she explains. “You tried again with the rest of the crew. And for some of them, you were able to work it out. If Smee kept up with them, he might have heard that.” 

 

Killian reasons that to be correct. It had been quite the labor to approach his other crewmates after how things went down with Smee. The next couple of tries proceeded just as poorly, though Killian got better reigning in his anger. Eventually, some were more responsive and were even able to accept his apology.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

“And he’s no doubt seen what you’ve done as a hero, too,” Emma continues. “I’d be surprised if he didn’t.” 

 

“Why would you say that?” Killian asks, raising a brow. 

 

“Because everyone does,” Emma proclaims, as easily as if she were announcing that water was wet. “People in Storybrooke - they’ve all heard about how you fought off the Snow Queen and fixed things with Ursula. Smee probably did, too. Everyone knows that when we get attacked by a hell demon, you’re always there helping to fend it off.” Both Killian and Emma get a chuckle out of her mockery of his terms. 

 

Killian nods. He sometimes forgets the road he’s been on since his switch. So much has happened, and it’s all been so fast since that last night they spoke. They’ve gone from darkness-loving queens to an alternate reality to Camelot and then to the Underworld and back. Even now, they’re in the midst of tackling a new crisis, what with these new people from The Land of Untold Stories. Even more disconcerting is Emma’s strange behavior. He knows he’s going to have to wait for an explanation for all that, and it’s sometimes a task more frustrating than he can bear to take on. But at the same time, it’s something she’d do for him. She already has.

 

And it will come. She’s recently opened her home to him.

 

He just has to be patient, and with Storybrooke being Storybrooke, he’s plenty to do to fill the time until then.

 

One thing that comes to mind to do just that is continuing his current conversation with his lovely girlfriend.

 

“Any other thoughts on the matter?”

 

“Yeah. I think hearing about you dying might have done something to him, too.”

 

A wisp of air that’s truly a silent hum escapes Killian. He hadn’t even considered that.

 

“Oh?”

 

“You died,” Emma states, in hauntingly plain terms. “I mean, it was a lot for me. And you cheat death more than you cheat at cards. I doubt Smee ever expected you to die - not like that, at least. I definitely didn’t either. Hearing about that, maybe he thought about what had happened and whether or not that grudge he had was worth it.”

 

Killian takes in what Emma has said. It would make sense that his trip to the Underworld might have done something to Smee. It certainly had to him. 

 

There’s certainly more to be considered on that matter, but at the moment, he’s more compelled to express gratitude to his beloved. Her efforts have certainly made Smee’s actions make more sense to him, and it saved him a night of aimless pondering.

 

“Thank you, love,” he praises. Now, though, a new query comes into play. “What do you think I should do with this information?”

 

Emma raises a brow and delivers a playful smile.

 

“Alright, it’s my turn to ask: What do you mean?”

 

“Do you think I should chance talking with him again?” Killian spells out.

 

He  made an effort the last time. He really had. Pride, for quite some time, was abandoned to make room for the shame that was in bounds. And while it definitely didn’t stay that way, the shame did its job lingering. It’s not like Killian didn’t see Smee. The occurences weren’t often, especially given the past few months, but he had seen him walking around or sometimes at Granny’s.

 

“I do. After Regina and Lily and Arthur, and you too, I realized that if someone really works at earning forgiveness, then they can get it. And while I can’t say for certain, I think in his own way, Smee learned that, too.” 

 

Killian’s grateful to hear her mention his name. He feels like he’s simply been handed his redemption on a platter, especially following his events as The Dark One. While he does believe that he ultimately made amends for his near attack on Storybrooke, his one murder still haunts him. Nothing will ever be able to mask his shame in hindsight over killing Merlin. It’s something he still thinks about, especially with the Evil Queen out on the loose. Merlin could’ve summoned her bound on a whim if he were still with them. His only solace in that regard was Merlin’s noticeable absence in the Underworld, cemented - quite literally - later upon seeing his unmarred tombstone facing the clouds.

 

Despite all that though, with that one sentence, Emma obliterates his doubts. He can truly believe that the happiness he has now is based upon his own merits.

 

“Any suggestions for this time?”

 

“Yeah. You might want to pay him. Take a look.” Emma points to a spot on the pink sheet, and Killian’s gaze scrutinizes the spot. “That grave wasn’t exactly cheap.”

 

Looking at the price, Killian agrees. It’s not terribly steep, but it's enough that its loss was no doubt felt by Smee.

 

“Indeed I shall. May as well put some of those dubloons in my chest to good use.”

 

“It’s a nice grave,” Emma points out. “Almost a shame to get rid of it.”

 

Killian feigns a face of disgust. “So you’d rather be rid of me?” His voice is dramatically audacious, just to make his ruse as clear as glass.

 

Emma hums, just as she did at the start of all of this. “Given our usual monster attacks, it would help with Storybrooke’s beautification efforts,” she says, playing herself off as innocently as a lamb to absolutely no one.

 

When she speaks like that, she’s so saucy that marinara could never hope to taste so good.

 

“I think I need to remind you of why you wanted me back so much,” Killian nearly growls. Emma already has her hand on his shoulder and is starting to lean in his direction by the time he throws the forogotten paper to the ground and starts pulling her in for a kiss.

 

Their tomfoolery lasts for quite some time - actions and movements and promises of loyalty and love through their bodies. For as long as it lasts, not a single thought - whether it be of regrets of the past or traumas of the present - occupies Killian’s mind other than the woman he holds - how she glows even in the darkest of spaces, how her hair lands on his fingers the way the strings of a golden harp would, and how the green in her eyes is more precious than a treasure chest full of the world’s most dazzling emeralds, just to name a few of the things he’s grown to adore about her.

 

When all is said and done,  Emma lies asleep beside Killian. Still awake, much to his chagrin, he is left with, alongside a lifetime’s supply of leftover pleasure from his and Emma’s earlier events, a lingering longing for forgiveness, amends, and some semblance of closure between him and his former first mate.

 

He looks to the side opposite Emma. On the floor, backside up, rests the paper that began any discussion of Smee.

 

To think he bought him a grave.

 

Memories of the Underworld begin to tug at Killian. It’s been hardly a month since his return from that hellish landscape. Since then, he’s come further in appreciating all that he has.

 

In addition, he’s come further in recognizing all that’s been lost in the ongoing battle of good and evil.

 

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time that one of those losses be told of their underlying worth. 

 

Fortunately for Killian, the crewmates with who he has made amends have recently reported spotting a familiar red beanie and a man sporting it hanging around the docks as of late.

 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

 

Let it never be said that anyone knows the nuances of Killian Jones’ face quite like Emma Swan.

 

It’s always beautiful - kind of the colors of a rainbow. But just like the different colors and shades, each expression says and means something different.

 

Most of the time, Emma knows exactly what to make of them. Killian’s eyes and smile are often dead giveaways of whatever he’s feeling. The color of his cheeks and how far, if at all, any redness there spreads to his ears is quite telling, too. Even his jaw has a bit of a story about the state of its master.

 

Presently though, Emma doesn’t know what to make of his face. He looks not anxious and not depressed, but conflicted. His eyes are pointed at their sheets - their very plain, boringly white sheets. His smile is nonexistent, but it hasn’t given way to a frown or even a scowl yet. It’s hanging in between states of happiness and sorrow. His complexion is completely normal. Finally, in a last ditch effort to understand how Killian’s feeling prematurely, Emma looks to his jaw. It’s loose, though not quite relaxed either.

 

All in all, he looks like he’s in a trance, and Emma hasn’t the slightest clue as to what the hell is going on.

 

“Everything okay?” she questions, willingly destroying the quiet between them.

 

Two nights have passed since the Final Battle. Emma and Killian are once again in bed. They’re now man and wife, as told by the subtle, yet beautiful bands on their fingers. The light weight on her hand is sometimes too much to be believed. It symbolizes a level of happiness that Emma hopes never to lose again.

 

No, not a hope.

 

A vow.

 

She’s done running, and she’ll fight for her happiness, as well as the happiness of others. 

 

Because of that, the look on Killian’s face leaves her more than a little concerned.

 

“Caught a little in my own head tonight,” Killian dismisses, unconsciously waving his hook just above his lap.

 

Her response is a quick one; she raises a brow disbelievingly. Killian seems to catch on to the fact that she’s not about to let this go.

 

“We’re married,” Emma reminds him, even going so far as to point to her wedding ring. She likes - nay - loves the sound of her finger tapping against the diamond. If she’s being honest, like her husband with his hook, she’ll look for any reason to put it to use, even if it just ends up being nagging. “No more secrets. Now, what’s up?”

 

To his credit, Killian expressions grow immediately apologetic. Emma’s glad, not only for that, but for the fact that her face has come alive.

 

“Sorry, dear,” Killian says. “I didn’t mean to lie to you, and I was planning on telling you. I-it’s - with everything that’s been going on, what with the battle and the curse and the celebration, it’s been a bit of an afterthought. And now that I’ve finally a moment to process it, I’ve hardly the ability to convey it to even myself, let alone you.”

 

Emma looks at him, now adjusting her own expression. His tone is honest, and she believes him, but if there’s any more danger or distress approaching, Emma would like to know about it beforehand.

 

“Try me,” she dares.

 

Killian looks at her and smiles, clearly taking her up on said dare. 

 

“As you wish, love.” 

 

The smile falters a bit, and Emma does what she can to prepare for anything.

 

“Did you know that Smee didn’t attend our wedding?”

 

Of all the things Emma expects Killian to confess, that, she admits to herself, is definitely on the lower end of things.

 

Well, at least they’re not getting hit with another monster attack.

 

The last time Killian brought the subject of Smee up, it was to discuss his second attempt at reconciliation. From what Emma understands, while not ending in success in terms of restoring their friendship, the conversation ended on much better terms than the previous attempt. Killian had given Smee a more proper apology - not to mention, as she suggested, some gold for the grave - and had promised to do right by him if afforded another chance. Smee, however, didn’t appear to be at that point yet to give that chance, leading to a rejection that was bittersweet. The two of them parted, but with, as Killian told her, frowns this time as opposed to scowls.

 

That said, Emma’s a little taken aback that he didn’t go to their wedding. She’s not insulted. There’s more than enough empathy towards Smee’s situation to dissuade her from feeling as such. 

 

She’s sad for Killian, though she’s aware that that only applies towards his feelings in hindsight. Emma knows such an absence was hardly distracting Killian from enjoying the main event that evening. Just as he knows how she kisses, she knows how he smiles, and what she saw during the ceremony and reception was completely and utterly authentic.

 

“I didn’t,” she confesses. “Are you okay with that?” Emma asks it carefully, unsure of what is to follow.

 

“It may surprise you, but yes.”

 

Indeed, it does surprise.

 

“I see my prediction proved to be correct, as they often are,” Killian reminds her, just before releasing a wink that bleeds smugness. Only then does Emma realize how stretched out her eyes feel.

 

Really, he’s such a cocky jackass. She’s tempted to use that wedding ring of hers to wipe that blossoming smirk off his face, but instead, she settles for sticking her tongue out at him. 

 

They’re honestly such children, but at least they’re to be children together until she’s mocking Killian’s age from a rocking chair.

 

She then drives her focus back to what Killian said earlier. It seems like the strangest thing in the world for Killian to forgive Smee so easily. Everything that’s happened between them aside, Emma can’t imagine him extending such a courtesy. Sure, Killian’s changed, and she believes that wholeheartedly, but given the way Killian treats their relationship on a regular basis, a small reaction like that is difficult to process.

 

“Did something happen?” she can’t help but wonder aloud, hoping for some clarity.

 

Thankfully, upon seeing Killian nod, it seems that clarity is exactly what he intends to give her.

 

“Aye,” he says. “Remember how the Black Fairy’s curse took all of us away from Storybrooke and back to the Enchanted Forest?”

 

“Yeah.” How could she forget?

 

“Turns out that we weren’t the only ones taken. In the scuffle, a handful of other people from town were brought there, too. Smee was one of them. Just before the lands were to fall away, for the briefest of seconds, I looked back from between your parents and Regina. Smee and I saw each other across the way, and we had...a moment.” Emma’s amazed. She’ll never know what it’s like to have been there, but through Mom, Dad, Regina, Zelena, and now him too, she she has been given bits and pieces of what occurred there. 

 

Crumbling castles.

 

Land-shattering quakes.

 

Tearful goodbyes.

 

And now this.

 

It’s so much to process.

 

So Emma instead turns to her other coping mechanism: Humor.

 

“Oh yeah? Should I be jealous?” Emma sticks her tongue out at him again. Killian drums up a faint chuckle, but continues.

 

“I can’t tell you how in the blazes I know,” he says wistfully. “But I swear on my life that right there and then, we forgave each other in that moment, not just for the wedding, but for the lying and the abandonment, too.”

 

“Is it strange?” Killian then asks, before Emma can even begin to think of that single word he used that stuck out more than any other - one that will likely always give Emma some bit of trouble going forwards. She reminds herself that if she has those she loves besides her, those instances will never be anything she can’t handle.

 

Emma thinks on the question Killian asked her. She’s partially amazed that her husband had it in him - not to forgive Smee necessarily, but to do so not one day after the grievance happened. Again, she can’t, of course, claim to know how it feels, being on the edge of the world as it literally crumbles around her. Something like that very likely brings out the greatest extremes of humanity. It still surprises and impresses her all the same.

 

She has the word “yeah” just about ready to come out, when in that moment, she recalls an experience of her own. Like Killian’s, it’s one she would’ve thought to be bizarre as well, right before it happened. But when it did happen, she found, oddly enough, that she could follow what her heart was telling her to do.

 

“No. I get it.”

 

“Do you,” Killian says. It comes out less like a question and more like a comment, like he already knows that she wouldn’t be saying so unless it was absolutely true.

 

Emma loves him so much.

 

“Lily and I had a moment like that, too. It was at that party after we escaped from Isaac’s book.” Killian’s eyes gleam from the memory, and it brings a smile to Emma’s face as she goes on with her stories. “We looked the other in the eye, and all that pain in the past, we just let go. Speaking of Lily, I need to talk to her, see what’s going on with her dad. Here’s hoping that doesn’t lead to too much of a crisis.” She teasingly removes an invisible wave of sweat from her head. It gets the desired response, namely, the return of Killian’s smile. 

 

“You’ll manage,” he says encouragingly. “You always do.”

 

“So do you,” Emma supplies. The way Killian’s smile doesn’t fade when she compliments him shows her that he knows she’s right and that he’ll make things right. Moreover, it shows confidence, and it shows growth.

 

Emma’s proud of him. She really is. It’s been roughly three years since Killian first turned over to the side of light. It hasn’t gone without its ups and downs - it would have been unreal to expect anything less - but there’s always been effort and a desire to do better. 

 

But every step of the way, for all of his mistakes, he’s never stopped trying. Even now, with everything that happened with Smee recently, he’s the one who earned that forgiveness. And he continues to exceed even her own expectations for him, with this latest act as the most recent example of all that he can do and all that he’ll continue to do.

 

Through overcoming challenges big and small in his own way, it’s become clear for all to see, both new friends and old: Killian Jones is indeed a better man.

 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” They’ve been through this over and over again, but Killian doesn’t want to even chance her discomfort. 

 

Not for this.

 

Not for anything if he can help it, but especially not for this.

 

“Yeah,” Emma replies, downright chipper. “Of course it is.”

 

Killian’s not surprised to hear Emma say it. He’s asked for her blessing on the matter several times already, and every time, she’s given him the same response in the same tone.

 

And then she reminds him of the exact same thing.

 

“I’m the one who suggested it in the first place!”

 

He’s truly thankful to her for that. Between her and her parents, there were so many possible options. It means the world that she let him choose.

 

The past few years have had their ups and downs. Following the Final Battle, Emma and Killian have lived a blissful life. Of course, it’s been peppered with up and downs, adventures big and small. There have been hellos and goodbyes to friends and family new and old, but they’ve persisted through it all.

 

And now they’re on the precipice of a new adventure, and as always, they’re going to do it their way.

 

Part of doing it their way includes making special decisions and bringing in the people best for the job.

 

For this most arduous, most demanding, and grandest task, Killian can think of only one friend to equip for the job - one stubbornly loyal enough to crawl into his heart and stay there even when life itself tried to pull them apart. It’s a personal accomplishment of Killian’s that he was able to salvage a relationship so unique and so invaluable to him, and now to have him be apart of this next journey in such an important way.

 

“Alright. Then I suppose it’s time that we tell Smee that he’s to become a godfather.”

* * *


End file.
